


The Halfway Point

by TheSanguineRose



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Crying During Sex, Cunnilingus, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, Established Relationship, First time anal, Hair-pulling, Idiots in Love, Laughter During Sex, M/M, Male Apprentice (The Arcana), Multiple Orgasms, Partially Clothed Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Spanking, Trans Male Character, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-04
Updated: 2019-12-04
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:15:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21629731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSanguineRose/pseuds/TheSanguineRose
Summary: Rory cries out again, his eyes clenching shut."Relax, darling," Julian says, voice tight.Rory feels himself clench around Julian's cock on reflex, and gasps out through his grit teeth, "I am relaxed."
Relationships: Apprentice/Julian Devorak
Comments: 8
Kudos: 104





	The Halfway Point

**Author's Note:**

> This fic had a working title of The Anal Fic That Needs A Better Title for ages, and it's clear why :) Have fun!
> 
> Reminder: While I try not to use terminology to discuss Rory's gentials, it is sometimes unavoidable. I use clit a few times in this one. <3

Rory has made a habit of focusing on the familiar. When faced with a stressful situation, losing all of your memories due to an unfortunate death and resurrection deal for example, one latches on to what they can. For some, it is the sweet, soothing scent of hot tea on a cool night. For others, it’s the way vibrant pigments are used to shape the world on a canvas, or how ink flows in narrow rivers of words across parchment, creating elaborate tales.

For Rory, it’s the feeling of Julian’s mouth between his legs. It’s the softness of Julian’s hair between his fingers, the strands slipping and curling as his hands tighten and ease, pressing his face into the cradle of his hips. Julian’s hands grip at his sides, anchoring him in place as he writhes, breathy whimpers staying muffled by the cage of his mouth, jaw clenched as he feels himself growing closer to his peak.

“I’m -- hmmm,” Rory tries to speak, voice shaking - hands shaking - legs shaking - and then Julian lessens the pressure, keeping him on edge, tongue practically standstill compared to its previous pace. Before Rory even has the chance to kick at him or pull at his hair in protest, one of Julian’s hands sneaks down to join his mouth, and he teases at the wetness of his entrance with his fingertips.

Julian moans against him and shivers, kissing the sensitive and bite-bruised skin of Rory’s inner thigh. As if it pains him, he lifts his head, and Rory lets him, his hands falling to rest on his own hips, one covering the palm still at his side. “Why’d you stop?” he gasps, even as Julian’s finger idly traces his hole.

Julian is quiet for a moment - a miracle - and then he inhales slowly. “You, ahem, you think you’re ready to flip over, yet?”

“Well,” Rory pauses as the finger enters him, just slightly, nowhere near enough to fill him, but enough to make his thighs drop open, his knees bending as he tries to draw his legs towards his torso. He burns for the fullness, but tries to steady himself with a deep breath. On his ribs, Julian’s hand turns to grasp his. “I can’t think very well when you’re doing that.”

Just as quickly as the finger entered him, it’s gone, and Rory whines again. “God, why?!”

Julian’s laugh is rough, low as it rolls over him. “You said you couldn’t think!”

“As if I can, now,” Rory says, his legs relaxing. His toes curl as he ponders. When he takes a moment too long, Julian leans up fully, dwarfing Rory as he sits back on his knees. With his free hand, he pets at Rory’s thigh, finger still tinged with wetness.

“We don’t have to do it tonight,” he says, all teasing pretense gone and replaced by a specimen Rory has privately, affectionately, called Serious Julian. “I could just fuck you like this, or we could talk about it more, or --”

“No, no, I’m tired of  _ talking _ about it,” Rory sighs, knowing he must look the part of a petulant child. He worries his lip, then pushes himself up onto his elbows. Then higher, pushing at Julian’s sternum gently. “Move so I can flip over.”

“Are you sure?” Julian asks, but gives Rory the space he needs to shift up on the bed.

Rory expects he’ll ask if he’s “all right” or “sure” or “okay” at least three more times as he usually does when they try something new and Rory shows even a hint of hesitation. This time, Rory just snorts and raises his eyebrow.

“What, are you just going to stick it in?” Rory quips while making a particularly offensive and graphic gesture with his arms. “Just --”

“N-no! Of course not! God, Rory!”

Julian gives him a horrified look, though whether it’s at the concept or the gesture, Rory isn’t sure. Regardless, he bursts into laughter, and Serious Julian melts away, a grin taking over his face as Rory tries to hold back the stray giggles. He looks up playfully, his eyes hooded as Julian leans back over him.

“I told you to move so I can flip over. When did you get so bad at following directions?” Rory asks, clicking his tongue. His smile gives him away, the way his hand somehow finds its way up to curl around the back of Julian’s neck to play with the hair at the nape of it. Julian leans closer, lips brushing over Rory’s before he changes course to kiss his nose.

“I love you,” Julian says, and kisses Rory’s forehead. When he pulls back again, without giving Rory a chance to respond, he makes a sweeping motion with his arm. “I’ve moved, flip to your heart’s content.”

And he will, but first he follows Julian up, pressing up and against him until he can kiss the sharpness of his collarbone, and says against his skin, ”I love you, too.”

Rory pulls away, scooting until he reaches the headboard, then stretches, the motion making him suddenly very aware of just how close he was before Julian denied him, the pressure of his thighs against one another making him hiss. He watches Julian, as Julian watches him, mismatched eyes flashing, throat bobbing as he swallows. Biting his lip, Rory twists himself, rolling onto his stomach and stretching like a cat, thighs still pressed together in some attempt to relieve the tension between his legs. 

He hides the flush of his face with his hair, glancing backwards only once, and briefly, before turning forward again.  _ Wow, he’d never noticed what a nice headboard they have. _ He falls to his elbows, ducking his head between them with a sigh. 

Julian’s weight shifts on the bed behind Rory, and suddenly he feels one hand at the seam of his closed thighs, pressing gently to get him to spread his legs. The other rests on his back, just above the curve of his ass. 

Rory shudders from head to toe as his legs widen. Not enough, though, as the hand curls around the meat of his thigh and gently tugs, leading it wider still. Julian’s hand tightens as Rory feels himself spread, both holes exposed. Reflexively, he clenches, and Julian groans from behind him, a tight sound, low and contained.

“Fuck, you look… wonderful like this,” Julian sighs, voice full of awe. Rory’s face burns - he can practically feel Julian’s eyes on him, soaking in every twitch and shudder his stupid, nervous body releases.

“I wouldn’t know,” he says, instead, and tosses his hair out of his face so it hangs over his shoulder in tangled waves. He glances backwards again, smirks. “It’s a bit hard to get a good look from this angle. But I’ll take your word for it.” He shakes his hips, just a slow roll from side to side, and when he moves, so do Julian’s hands, roving over his ass, then down his thighs. All the while, Julian looks him in the eye, hunger painted across his face. When he bites his lip, Rory finally looks away, ducking his head between his elbows again and shutting his eyes.

“So, are you just going to stare the whole time, orrr -- ohhh, okay,” Rory gasps as Julian puts a finger back inside him, hole still wet and swollen and unsatisfied. His other hand holds Rory’s hip, keeping him upright and steady.

“I’m definitely, hm, going to enjoy the view,” Julian says as he adds a second finger beside the first, making Rory gasp again. “But I’m also very good at multitasking.”

“You have… have to be,” Rory whimpers as Julian’s fingers curl into him, each pump brushing against the nerves inside of him. His legs threaten to give out, his hips drooping, heavy, towards the mattress. “What with your -- profession -- God!” he yelps when Julian pulls him back up, the line of his back readjusted to be ramrod straight.

"Nah, just me," Julian says, fingers twisting and thrusting faster, harder.

Rory chokes on his groan at the joke, startled by the sudden resurgence of his climax. His hips buck against Julian's grip of their own accord, fucking back on his fingers wantonly, Julian's hold on his hip leading him into a measured rhythm.

Rory's fallen back into familiarity - fingers fucking into him quick and hard the way he knows will pull a body shaking orgasm from his core. He pants against the scratch of sheets on his cheek, hums under his breath, "Oh, God, your fingers - fuck, fuck, fuck --" he trails off into a whimper, then just a shuddering sigh. Julian groans behind him, a low sound, and Rory feels the bed jostle as Julian leans down to brush his lips against the middle of Rory’s back, the start of a trail of open mouthed kisses that end on Rory’s tailbone. He isn’t sure how his face heats up more, but it does, especially when Julian’s hand leaves his hip to hold his cheeks open, his tongue trailing the line of his ass down to his exposed hole. The anticipation has Rory shaking, the promise of Julian’s tongue overwhelming him. He slows the thrusting of his hips, languidly rolling back and forth, and tries to keep them steady without Julian’s hand holding him up. 

He whispers into the sheets, “Oh, please.”

“What was that?” Julian’s breath is hot against his hole, and Rory whines as Julian’s fingers pause their movements.

“I said pl… hmmm…” he swallows thickly as Julian squeezes the meat of his ass. “Please? Please!”

The slightest nip of teeth against the skin of his cheek, eased with a smile shaped kiss. “‘Please’ what, Ro?”

“Ohhh," Rory spares Julian a glare over his shoulder and is met with a saucy wink. He ducks his head back down with a small shake. “Ffffuck you?”

“Hmm, not my turn.”

Rory laughs despite himself, then chokes as Julian brushes his tongue quickly over his hole, a tease that stokes the fire in his chest. “Julian!” he whines out, pressing his hips back. It’s torture, the warmth of his breath on his backside, the stillness of fingers keeping his front hole stretched and wanting. “Do that again -- Julian, please!”

“Which part? Fingering you?” The fingers inside Rory curl once for emphasis. Rory whimpers. “Or tonguing your ass?” There’s no swift swipe this time, and Rory writhes with a frustrated groan.

“Both -- I want both! You know I want both!” Rory’s voice comes out frantic, high pitched, desperate. It wobbles as he chokes out, “I want you to fuck me with your fingers and --” Rory swallows, embarrassed. “I want your tongue in my ass.”

“There’s a good boy.” And Julian’s fingers go back to their rapid pace, and his head ducks down to lathe his tongue against the skin just around Rory’s rim, but not quite touching.

“Oh, fuck you doubly,” Rory mutters into his arms. “I hate sa-aying it!” 

“I know,” Julian says, cheerful. “It’s like pulling teeth, but oh, it’s so worth it to hear you say it.”

Rory opens his mouth to respond, but all that comes out is a gentle gasp as the tip of Julian’s tongue circles his hole, teasing the entrance with little flicks, not yet trying to enter him. It makes his heart race ever faster, the gentle, wet press against his hole. Julian’s hand still holds his left cheek open, but it doesn’t feel enough -- it feels uneven, spread as he is. He reaches his right hand back to pull his other cheek wide, and Julian groans against him, his tongue flicking across the rim in firm strokes. 

If anything, the press of Julian’s tongue and the fullness from the fingers lulls him into a comfortable plateau, his orgasm bobbing just out of reach. He allows it, savoring Julian’s touch -- the sound of his breaths, panting and heaving, the scratch of Julian’s hint of stubble against the sensitive skin of his thighs and cheeks. Rory moans as the scratch ebbs and flows, Julian’s mouth affixed to his ass, sometimes wandering from his hole to bite again at his cheeks or the dips where his ass and thighs meet.

It begins to grow again when Julian stops spreading him and says, quickly, roughly, in between licks, “Hold yourself open for me.” Rory complies with only minimal whining, both hands holding his cheeks wide open as the side of his face digs itself into the sheets without the support of his arms. With a flush, he realizes he can feel Julian’s spit at his fingertips, and wonders just how wet he must be, now. As Julian fucks Rory’s hole with his tongue in earnest, finger tugging slightly at the rim, he determines it must be very. While Rory’s hands and Julian’s tongue hold his hole open, Julian’s now free hand curls around to Rory’s front, fingertips rubbing at his neglected clit in quick, even strokes.

Though muffled, Rory gasps into the sheets, his fingers twitching and gripping where they stay affixed to his own ass. “Oh fuck,” he says, and repeats it, over and over again, interspersed with a croak of “Julian” and “Faster” hither and thither. He doesn’t know what to focus on.

Julian’s hands make quick work of his front, unrelenting and practiced, but his tongue twists and curls and flicks against the sensitive skin on his hole, loosening it and making Rory’s legs twitch. The scratch of his stubble leaves his skin raw between his legs - it will redden by morning, need to be soothed by a hastily thrown together balm, he’s sure, but Julian will massage it into his thighs and his cool fingers will run over his slits and seams and it will start all over again -- Oh God.

He can’t think -- he has given up on thinking. He is a gasping mess, gripping himself so hard he’s sure he’ll bruise. Julian’s name is the only word his mouth can make sense of, the sound of it clear and desperate, pouring from his mouth in droves as he steamrolls towards his climax.

When he comes, it's Julian's hands that hold him up. His top half has given up, sated and flat on the bed, and his legs shake around Julian's knees. His hips twist and jerk in an attempt to pull from the overwhelming touch of Julian’s fingers in front, and his tongue in back. When Julian finally does pull his head away, his fingers replace his tongue, dragging Rory’s own wetness up and rubbing it around the rim. Emboldened by the gratuitous wetness, Julian’s ducks the tip of his finger in experimentally, and Rory groans, his arms dropping limp to his sides, the sweet pressure making him twitch in his post-orgasm haze.

“Okay?” Julian asks. As his finger circles the rim, occasionally ducking back in, Rory closes his eyes.

Rory takes a moment to breathe before he responds, his voice shaky. 

“Mmmhmm... more than okay…”

“Okay… Okay, good.” 

There’s another shift in the mattress as Julian leans over to grab something from the other side of the bed. The finger leaves Rory as he hears the pop of a cork.

“Nooo,” Rory whines again, and hates it. Wanting makes him petulant, impatient.

And then warm liquid slides slowly down the crease of his ass, enveloping the rim, dripping down and around his cheeks and onto his thighs.

“Ohh… Ohh… never, hmmm, never mind.” Rory maneuvers his arms back up so he can rest his head back upon them. “I meant ‘yes’.”

Julian laughs, his fingers gathering the spilled oil and rubbing it back around the rim, mixing it with his leftover spit and Rory’s own slick.

His finger presses back into the hole, up to the first knuckle. “You’re still too tight.”

Rory shivers. “What would you, mmm.” He nuzzles into his arms as the finger massages the rim and presses again, deeper this time. “What would you recommend, Doctor?”

“Well,” Julian starts, playing along. "In my professional opinion, you should be brought to climax by dexterous fingers and an extremely talented tongue, but you appear to have, erm, received that treatment. So to speak.”

“Oh,” Rory opens an eye and looks back at Julian with a smirk. "So, what… that’s a one time treatment?”

“Not at all!” 

Rory has to keep from laughing at Julian’s overacted earnest expression. It’s hard to take him seriously when he’s two knuckles deep, after all. Julian’s expression melts into one of shamelessness, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Usually my patients end up coming three… maybe four times, if they’re lucky.”

“Oh my god,” Rory snorts, and feels two fingers in his hole -- though the burn is less intense than the last time they had tried to do this, relaxed by the gratuitous ministrations and the light atmosphere in the room. It does still burn, though, and he lets out the smallest of grunts as Julian's fingers slowly twist and scissor inside of him.

Rory inhales slowly, exhales slowly. It isn't that different from when the fingers were in his front, and yet it is foreign enough that his body wants to seize up. He has to focus on his breathing to ensure that he doesn't, focus on how the burn fades into the pleasure-pain of being stretched.

Julian's hand rubs his back, firm and chilled and calloused against his overheated skin. Julian clears his throat once and then says, gently, "Tell me when you're ready for the third one?"

"The  _ third  _ one?" Rory whispers, the stretch becoming more pain than pleasure for a split second.

Serious Julian has returned, his voice professional, soothing through the jostled nerves bubbling through Rory's veins. "If you want to take my cock, you have to be stretched enough. Do you want to take it?"

Rory's stomach flips. He moans against his arms, heart fluttering. Of course he does -- what else is he doing this for?

"Yes," he breathes, then hums, content. "I love your cock. I'd take it any way you want me to."

"Oh," Julian's voice pitches upward for only an instant, bringing a small smile to Rory's face. Julian clears his throat. "Well, it loves you, too, and appreciates your, ahem, willingness to accept it."

"I love the man attached to it, too, but I assume he knows that."

Rory feels the fingers inside him shift as Julian leans over his back to kiss his shoulder. 

"He does," Julian whispers against Rory's skin. His fingers move in earnest as he trails his kisses from Rory's shoulder, to the bare pane of his neck. Rory's breathing quickens as Julian's tongue and teeth work to draw a pretty new mark on his neck, just low enough that Rory can get away with wearing his usual collared shirt without issue.

The tingling at his neck melds with the now pleasant burning in his hole, and he sighs and lifts onto wobbling arms. He arches his back against Julian's chest, groaning at the drag of hair against his skin.

"I'm -- it -- you," Rory gasps out. "I'm r-ready for three."

He gasps as Julian bites gently at his ear with a rumbling groan, the slickness of his tongue soothing the nip on his shell.

"I-- I-- I-- I think, anyway?" Rory ducks his head down again, feeling his arms shake and his legs ache as he holds himself up.

"You think?" Julian asks, twisting his fingers and spreading them, enough that Rory shivers and groans at the stretch.

"I am! Three -- oh, please?"

Rory's whining is rare. While he does usually ramble on and on during sex, it usually isn't littered with pleading and whimpering and whining -- he hopes Julian doesn't mind.

Oil drips onto his hole again, keeping him newly slick, and it reminds him that, no, Julian doesn't mind it. He acquiesces to Rory's requests eagerly, enthusiastically, and without hesitation.

When Julian removes his fingers to recoat them, Rory finds himself whimpering out, small and wanton, "Please, oh, God, I miss your fingers." The slight fullness that left him hot and wanting for more is replaced by gaping emptiness as his hole contracts, grasping for something.

Rory practically cries in relief when Julian's fingers return, wet and warm and thicker now with three of them. He feels pinpricks of tears at the new stretch, and barely chokes down a cry as his hole takes them greedily, his hips thrusting back. Behind him, over him, engulfing him, Julian laughs again, a gentle sound full of awe.

"Oh, darling, you're taking it so well."

"Haaaa… haaa," Rory pants out in response, his arms still shaking as he keeps himself up. When the stretch feels too much, Julian's fingers teasing around the rim and thrusting in and out at a steady pace, both his arms and legs give out, and Julian startles with an, "Oop! I got you!"

He holds up Rory's hips with an arm wrapped around them, still three fingers deep.

"You okay?" Julian asks, his thumb rubbing nervous circles on Rory's hip.

"Mmmmmmmhmm," Rory gives him a half hearted thumbs up and closes his eyes. He whimpers when Julian's fingers move again, quick and slick, matching up with the flutter of Rory's heart. With Julian holding him up, it's easier to gain his leverage, his knees spreading and digging into the softness of the bed. His hips drive back, his gasps punctuating each wet thrust as he feels himself opened properly.

Eventually, Rory gasps out into the sheets, voice rough. "I'm ready."

The fingers curl inside him, the arm round his hips tightens, and Julian exhales deeply through his nose. 

"Y-you're --"

"For your cock -- for, hmmmm," Rory whines. "God, fuck me, I want,  _ hmm _ , I want you to fuck me -- I want --"

The words pour out like a babbling brook, and it's as if he's forgotten every word he's ever learned that doesn't have to do with Julian and the concept of being fucked by him. He can't stop, the words slipping past his lips even as his voice trails off into breathless moans against his fist clenched into the sheets. He vaguely hears Julian moan behind him, a guttural thing that rolls through Rory like a wave. He feels the fingers leave him with an almost overwhelming clarity, his voice choking on a sob as he begs, pleads with Julian, "Fill me up, you know how much I want it -- you --" Rory growls when Julian's hands leave him entirely, his skin tingling where he was touched.

"Why are you torturing me like this?!"

At that Julian laughs again, and Rory recognizes the rustle-thump of fabric being dropped to the floor - the cord that Julian keeps round his waist.

"You think this is torture for you?" Julian asked, and presses his still clothed cock against the sensitive swell of Rory's ass, a mimicry of what Rory wants. Julian's hands find Rory's hips again, holding him in place as he grinds once -- twice -- three times, the friction from the rough fabric making them both shudder. Julian huffs, his hips forcibly stilled as he speaks again. 

"I, uhm, I haven't touched myself. This whole time."

"Not… not at all?" Rory presses back against Julian's weight, smirking at the tight clench of Julian's hands on him.

"N-no," Julian gasps, and presses back. "Just… just like you told me."

"Good," Rory sighs. "Good, that's good."

Julian whimpers, his hips twitching just slightly before holds himself fast. Rory finds himself catching his breath, his hips grinding back and searching for a sliver of release.

"We've both been -- been good," he says, and swallows. "Take them off -- take --"

Julian doesn't quite take them off, Rory can tell from the feverish way he pushes the fabric off his hips. Julian hisses as his cock springs free, and it rests hot and heavy against Rory's cheek.

"Ohhh, there it is, hello!" Rory presses back again, moaning at the trail of precum Julian's cock leaves on his skin. He shifts, urging the cock between his cheeks. 

"Wait, w-wait," Julian gasps, pulling his cock away, and Rory groans aloud.

"What now?"

There's the slick sound of oil followed by Julian's shuddering gasp as he drags the slickness on his cock in measured strokes. He curses once, the slick movements stopping, and Rory peeks over his shoulder to see Julian breathing deeply through his nose, eyes clenched shut, hand at the root of his cock, keeping it still as it tries to bob away from his hold.

"Oh," Rory says, and Julian opens his eyes with a shaky grin.

"Was too good."

He swallows and pulls Rory back to his hips, meeting him halfway and letting his cock rest again between Rory's cheeks, which he clutches so tightly that Rory shudders from it.

"Come on, then," Rory huffs, arching up into Julian's touch. "I told you I want it -- to feel it -- to feel you." And it starts again, the rambling, his filter out the window as he feels Julian line up behind him, breathing heavy.

And then Rory feels the head of Julian's cock breach him, blunt and just thick enough that he startles, even after the fingers. He lets out a bitten off moan, a loud  _ Ah! _ against his fist, and tenses at the intrusion.

Julian pushes in another inch, and Rory cries out again, his eyes clenching shut.

"Relax, darling," Julian says, voice tight.

Rory feels himself clench around Julian's cock on reflex, and gasps out through his grit teeth, "I am relaxed."

He isn't. He can feel the looseness from Julian's touch seeping away as the muscles in his back, his hips, his legs, all tighten at the intrusion. He doesn't know whether or focus on the burn or on the solid weight inside of him or on the comforting circles Julian massages into the small of his back.

With a sigh through his nose, Julian shifts his legs, just enough that Rory whimpers as the cock shifts inside of him. Serious Julian returns, hand now tracing Rory's spine, lined by shifting muscles that refuse to ease up.

"Do you need to stop?" Serious Julian asks, and Rory can feel him tentatively start to pull back and away.

"No!" He cries out, then softer. "No. I'm fine. I can do it."

It's quiet for a moment -- still. Rory's hole rejects the stretch, panicking, fluttering around Julian's cock. Rory pants, uneven, embarrassment filling his veins and making him tense up even more. He feels his throat close up, his eyes fill with tears.

"Okay," Julian says at last, and leans over to grasp the white knuckles of Rory's fist. "Open your eyes."

"Mmmph."

"Ro? Look at me."

Rory does, peeking open one eye and meeting Julian's gaze, his smile that only grows as Rory looks at him.

"Keep your eyes on me," Julian says, and Rory's hand relaxes in Julian's larger one. "Now, uhm, we're going to try something you did with me, once." He frowns just briefly. "Different circumstance, but we're adaptable sorts, aren't we?"

Rory blinks at him, still trying not to focus on the head of a cock in his ass. He squeezes Julian's hand as if to say  _ Get on with it! _

"Oh, right! We're going to breathe together, seeing as you are determined to see this through and I am equally determined to make this not… terrible for you."

Rory raises his eyebrows and swallows. "I can do that."

Julian starts it, a slow inhale, hold, and exhale. Rory follows suit, his breath still shaking in his throat, but it does help. His eyes dry, his throat loosens, the tight curve of his back relaxes. Each breath they exhale together somehow brings new life to him, a calm that flows through him. Julian keeps a hold on his hand as he straightens back up.

"Keep breathing -- just like that. I'm, ahem, going to try to press in a bit more, okay?"

Rory nods, inhales, and shakes on the exhale as Julian pushes into him, stretching him -- filling him. It doesn't hurt so much, the tension lessened, but it overwhelms him. He'd underestimated the fullness, the heat, the pressure. It's different from how Julian usually fucks him -- it feels deeper somehow, stronger. He lets out a low groan and clenches deliberately, and Julian's hand grasps his, tight enough that it hurts.

"Oh, okay, nope, stop, wait!" Julian rushes all the words out as he stills and pants. "Oh… oh my god."

"Y-you okay, now?" Rory echoes back to Julian with a small smile.

"Yes, yep, I'm fine, just, uh," Julian hisses as he inhales, and pulls his hand back with a grimace. "You're, uh… you're tight is all… very… whoo." 

Julian's hand lands on Rory's flank with a decisive  _ slap _ and Rory yelps, shifts, and Julian chokes from the movement.

"Oh! Oh I'm so sorry -- are you hurt, did I --"

"No… no, not hurt," Rory flushes, blinks into the coverlet. He'd said that he doesn't enjoy pain - quite the opposite. The sharpness of it makes him cringe away, dull pain makes him tear up. And yet, despite this, he almost appreciates how the lingering sting from Julian's hand distracts him from the overwhelming pressure inside of him.

"I… didn't hate that," he says.

"You didn't?"

"No… you could… uh… do it again?"

Julian clears his throat, his voice unable to decide where on his register it wants to land. "Do… do you want me to do it again?"

"I think so..."

"You think, or --"

"Yes, Julian," Rory says with an air of exasperation, tinged with embarrassment. "I want you to do it again."

Julian's hand meets his flank, stinging just as sweetly as before, and Rory groans, his hips twitching.

Again, not too hard, and Rory hisses. It trails off into a short laugh, bubbling up into his throat. "A-again?" He manages through his giggle. "Harder?"

Julian does, and Rory squeals, covering his mouth with an embarrassed snort as Julian rests his hand over his handprint, fingers digging into the flesh.

"I'm sorry! Sorry, it isn't -- isn't you, I'm just," Rory devolves into giggles again, and is just distracted enough that he doesn't quite notice the gentle thrust Julian gives. Until he does, and with a pleased noise that breaks through his laughter.

Julian's own chuckles shake him, even as he thrusts a second time, and Rory whimpers into his hand still covering his mouth.

"How -- how's it feeling?" Julian asks, voice rough.

It's a lot. Not overwhelming like before, but a flurry of feelings, inside and out. It's pressure deep inside of him, from his hole, to the quivering muscles in his thighs, to the rapid beat of his heart, and the even breaths Julian gave to him. It's the handprints on his thigh, on his ass, that will redden and ache, but for now sting so lightly, especially with Julian's strong fingers digging into them, holding Rory and guiding him back and forth on Julian's cock.

What Rory says is, "Feels good." Another slap, then, and Rory gasps, his laughter pouring out as if he's been tickled mercilessly. "I-I'm sorry! I can't stop -- keep going it -- heehee -- it's good, Julian -- oh God, hit me again!" His voice streams out again, a barrage of requests and affirmations, grunts and groans and satisfied giggles on a smiling mouth. 

Julian pants above him, his thrusts shallow and slow, growing ever faster with each sound Rory makes, each bitten off laugh, each cry of Julian's name in the air. Driven by the response, Julian's hand snakes up Rory's back, gripping his shoulder as he thrusts harder, deeper. Rory yelps, gasps, whines into his hand.

"Still okay?" Julian asks as he pulls nearly out, head lingering just inside the rim.

Rory takes a moment, then nods. "H-how much have you… did you…?"

Julian frowns and tilts his head, then his eyes widen in realization. "Oh… halfway in I think, just over."

"Half… for fuck's sake, really?" Rory glances up at him, brows furrowed.

Julian half shrugs. "I didn't want to give you more than you could handle." His grin is absolutely shameless, a tinge of pride in it. 

Rory rolls his eyes.

"I can handle it fine, thanks."

"Yeah?" Julian thrusts again, harder, deeper than before, and Rory gasps.

"Oh, oh, okay, yeah," he whispers, over and over, in time with Julian's thrusts.

Rory gets used to it, the stretch, the pressure that twists his insides pleasantly. It feels just on the edge of enough, more than he can handle. But Julian's well intentioned jab pokes at his brain and makes him want to cry for more -- to be filled until he can't tell where he ends and Julian begins. A small part of him driven by pride sees it as a challenge --  _ How much dick can I take today? Maybe the whole thing! _

"I can take more," he manages through his groans, and Julian slows to a stop, as deep as he's dared to go.

Julian lets out an inquisitive hum and rubs his thumbs tenderly at the top of Rory's spine. "Are you sure?"

He isn't, but when has that ever stopped them?

"Yes," Rory says, tossing stray hairs out of his face. With one hand, Julian keeps ahold of Rory's shoulder and with the other, he brushes the remaining flyaways from Rory's face. The hand in Rory's hair tangles itself in the mess of it and gathers it into his fist, the length allowing him to wrap it once around his hand like a very ineffective bandage. It drags Rory's head up so he has no choice but to remain steady on all fours, a light tingle radiating from his scalp and spreading through his body.

"Okay," Julian huffs, and Rory realizes at once that Julian wasn't just readjusting his grip, but psyching himself up.

Julian thrusts slowly at first, again, comforting and familiar. Rory can focus on the variety of sensations -- pleasure from deep inside, the now faded sting on his ass, the gentle  _ tug tug tug _ of his hair each time Julian pumps into him.

Until Julian acquiesces and presses deeper, nearly buried to the hilt, and Rory yelps, the sound decisively more pain than pleasure.

"Oh! Wait, nope, okay, stop," Rory gasps, and Julian does, his cock comfortably halfway again. After a few decisive gasps of air, Rory nods as best he can and says, sarcastically, "You were right. Let all of Vesuvia know that I have been slain by your giant dick."

Julian snickers despite himself.

Rory winces just once and hisses, "Ow."

"You okay?"

"Mmhmm…"

The hand on Rory's shoulder rubs little circles against his neck and Julian clicks his tongue. "Don't worry… we'll get you there."

"O-oh, will we?"

"If that's what you want."

Rory's stomach twists pleasantly.  _ Oh, _ he thinks,  _ Oh, it certainly is. _

He doesn't say it aloud, but he does groan and roll his hips, and Julian tugs his hair with a gasp.

They fall back into an easy rhythm, though the tickle of ambition still drives Rory to take a little bit more than he should, drawing more wordless cries from his throat -- first through grit teeth in growls, and then from his open mouth, cries echoing on the walls.

Julian keeps his hold on Rory's hair as his thrusts quicken, as he meets and exceeds Rory's pace. Rory tries to duck his head, pull away from the hold to increase the pressure on his scalp, but Julian holds him fast, keeps him straight and measured.

His free hand, the one still engulfing Rory's shoulder, sneaks it's way down the rod of Rory's back, over his side, and to his front again, fingers pressing against the nub as they did before. Rory gasps and tosses his head as Julian releases his hair to get a firm grip on his hip again.

This time, when Rory's legs give out from under him, Julian doesn’t pull him up. Instead he chases him, his hips barely stuttering as his thrusts push Rory further into the mattress. Julian’s hand remains trapped between Rory’s hips and the bed, and Rory can’t help but grind against him, his clit overstimulated and yet still begging for touch. With each grind, he pushes Julian’s cock further into himself, the pace of his hips growing faster. 

Julian holds himself up with his free arm, hand clenched next to Rory’s head. Rory’s own arm crawls up Julian’s like a vine, gripping hard as a vise, hoping that maybe the tight cord of his arm will ground him. Julian’s hips do stutter when Rory’s nails dig into the flesh of his bicep, a broken moan echoing through the room. Rory doesn’t know what he’s saying anymore, his words a mishmash of syllables that he hopes make sense. Occasionally, he says something that makes Julian whimper and give an especially hard thrust, leaving Rory panting out small  _ ah ah ah _ ’s as he catches his breath afterwards.

At least he tries to catch his breath. Instead, the panting grows into a cacophony of groaning, each thrust pushing them from deep in his chest. Rory savors the weight pressing him down -- filling him up -- the relentless press of fingers on his clit, and shudders as he feels his climax comes at him, makes him gasp in surprise. He near shrieks as it hits him, a startled and sharp sound that fades into a growl as his limbs seize. His ears ring, but through it he can hear Julian's voice warning him, panting and moaning out how close he is, how tight he feels, and "Oh, that's it, come on me, oh, fuck, that's good, Ro, Ro, Ro." Julian chants his name, over and over again, like a prayer, as if Rory is his idol, and Rory's shoulders an altar for him to worship. He lays kisses on the valley of them, peppers them at the top of Rory's spine like an offering, Rory's name falling holy between them. His voice lifts upward in question -- the same tone he uses when asking permission.

Rory answers him, reaches his arm up and wraps his hand around the back of Julian's neck, holding him close. As Julian latches his mouth onto Rory's neck in turn, Rory gasps. He manages through his shudders and groans and whimpers, "Come in me."

And Julian chokes against his skin, his hips stuttering as Rory tenses around his cock. And with each cry of Rory's name, Rory replies again, breathless and shaky, words tripping over each other in his desperation. "Do it, come on, come inside me."

It's only a few more bubbling words, each gasp more wanton than the last, that brings Julian to the end, his breath hot against Rory's skin.

Julian bites his lip to quell the cry that joins his release, and Rory gasps at the wetness -- the heat inside of him. Julian lays on him for just a moment -- long enough to catch his breath -- and pushes himself up so he can look down at Rory's face properly. Slowly, gently, he pulls out, and Rory whimpers as he feels the spend inside of him shift, some of it following Julian's cock and mixing with the rest of the sticky mess between his legs.

"Oh… oh, Ro, that was amazing, incredible --  _ you _ were amazing," he whispers as he leans down to kiss at Rory's neck again, to brush the hair from his face and kiss his temple. Rory shudders, his eyes closed, fist by his mouth, feeling nothing but heat everywhere, and now the heat stings his eyes. Hot tears gather and as Julian's lips caress him, they fall and drip over the bridge of his nose and onto the sheets under him. He gulps in a breath and it comes out in a sob, his skin oversensitive and heart aching to beat from his chest.

"Oh," Julian breathes against his temple. "Oh, darling, oh no." And his lips kiss again at Rory's temple, closer to the outer corner or his eye. "If it's not me, it's you, isn't it?"

Rory chokes out a laugh through his sobbing, the floodgates opened -- and he doesn't even know why. He isn't sad or upset -- he's been hotter, more stimulated, more everything. But still it hits him over and over again like a knot in his throat, until the sheets dampen from his tears as Julian's hand pets his hair and wipes his cheeks and asks if he's all right probably ten times before Rory can nod. There's a moment where Julian pulls away again, a shift on the bed, and a rustle of fabric as Julian's pants are tossed onto the floor. It is an exquisite relief when he returns to Rory, his weight pressed against his still shaking form. As Julian touches him, kisses him, whispers soft words and pulls him gently into his arms, Rory feels the chill of Julian's fingertips -- the sweetest ice against the scorch of his skin. He settles, heavy, onto Julian's chest when Julian rolls into his back, and slowly his sobs eke off into small hiccups, and then into short breaths.

"Okay," Rory says with a sniffle. He nuzzles against Julian's chest and sighs a shaky little sigh. "W-what the fuck?"

Julian's chest rumbles with laughter under Rory's head, his arm tightening around Rory's shoulders. Rory giggles back, a hysterical little hiccup, and says again, "Seriously, what the fuck? I don't usually cry like that, I mean, it was good, but…" he trails off with another sniff.

"I don't… I don't know, really," Julian says, and then glances down with a shrug. "Maybe it was just  _ that _ good."

"Julian…"

"What, you've never come so hard you've been brought to tears?"

"I -- wha -- Julian," Rory lifts his head and squints his eyes, taking in the tousled, sweat damp curls that hang over Julian's face, just barely showing a hint of his signature grin. 

With a pout, Rory says, "You know I have… you were there, remember?"

Julian let's out a wistful, dreamy sigh as Rory's legs wrap round his own, keeping him solidly in place.

"Oh, no, I do," Julian's smile has softened, and he tosses the hair from his face when he looks down at Rory again. "I remember perfectly -- the briefest of tears, and you were trying to brush them away before I could notice,” his hand trails up to curl under Rory’s chin. “But I always notice." Julian leans to kiss Rory's nose before he settles back against the pillows, more than content to be held fast by his octopus of a husband.

They're quiet, comfortably so, when Rory's sniffles turning into soft, sleepy breaths. His eyes ache from crying, so he closes them for a sense of reprieve. The ache he can’t ignore is the one in his backside, measured and low, and sweet as he clenches. He inhales shakily as he clings more onto Julian, locking onto him. What he says next is quiet. So quiet that it is barely a trill on his exhale. He whispers it, as if trying not to break the silence. 

"Thank you, Julian. I liked it."

"Yeah?" 

Rory can practically hear the smile in Julian's voice as it tangles around the word fondly. "Yeah… maybe not an all the time thing, but," Rory blushes, though he does find his sudden shyness silly considering what they’d just done. "I  _ did _ like it and we can do it again… and again."

"Mmm… and if I recall, a rather ambitious magician has made it his new goal to, oh what was it?"

Rory clears his throat before he speaks, but his words still come out in a husky rasp. "Work me up until I can take all of you -- every last inch.” 

Rory shivers as Julian's voice slithers into his ear pleasantly.

"We will, darling… oh, we will."

**Author's Note:**

> I've decided my calling cards are 1. one or both of them cries during/after sex 2. they're in love about it 3. Julian proudly jokes about having a big dick...and he should.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed <3
> 
> Find my gay ass on [ tumblr](http://thesanguinerose.tumblr.com) and [ twitter](https://twitter.com/thesanguinerose)! [dab]


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